


You are the absolute best idea I ever had

by supercali



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Red White and Royal Blue AU, Some angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercali/pseuds/supercali
Summary: Robert looked round the room as he dumped his bag on the bed. It did look comfortable he supposed, but that didn’t mask the fact that he didn’t want to be here. The room itself was nothing special, nothing like most people would expect in the home of the British Prime Minister he had no doubt. It was bigger than he expected, no doubt thanks to the Blairs and their renovations back in the day. It wasn’t his home though. He had a flat, a perfectly nice flat in the middle of the city that suited him and yet here he was.Robert's the son of the PM, Aaron's a Prince. That's really all you need to know.
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden
Comments: 16
Kudos: 171





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Red, White and Royal Blue AU with a good few changes but the basic idea is there :)
> 
> It's ages (almost a year) since I've written anything so updates might be slow but I'm determined to finish it. Just bear with me.
> 
> They're similar ages here, and about the age Aaron was when they met in 2014 just so you know ;)

Robert looked round the room as he dumped his bag on the bed. It did look comfortable he supposed, but that didn’t mask the fact that he didn’t want to be here. The room itself was nothing special, nothing like most people would expect in the home of the British Prime Minister he had no doubt. It was bigger than he expected, no doubt thanks to the Blairs and their renovations back in the day. It wasn’t his home though. He had a flat, a perfectly nice flat in the middle of the city that suited him and yet here he was.

“You’re here then.” He turns to see his Dad standing in the doorway, suit as immaculate as always. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look casual, even when his Mum used to force him into a sweater or polo shirt during the summer.

“You didn’t give me much choice.” He’d expected the call, as soon as he’d woken up to a phone full of news notifications. He supposes it’s not every day the son of one of the most popular Prime Ministers in recent history is caught red handed with the sister of his beloved wife. It didn’t matter that in private their marriage had been over for months, that Chrissie was already with someone else. No, he was the one at fault, all manner of rumours doing the rounds, because they’d kept their separation private so as not to harm his father’s reputation.

What rankled most, as it had most of his life, was that his Dad hadn’t even called himself, not even his closest assistant had been the one to make the call, a lowly staffer was all he got, telling him that _‘the PM thinks it best you move into 10 Downing Street for the foreseeable’_.

It wasn’t that he wanted to be front page news, he didn’t go looking for it like some, but ever since his father had swept to power on a promise of reuniting the country, the press had been on him like bees round a honeypot, half the time making up their own gossip without him even leaving his living room. He wasn’t like his brother, the fine upstanding Andy, who still ran the farm that their Dad had grown up on, Andy with the sick daughter who everyone doted on, including Robert, he’s not that terrible a human being. Then there was Vic, the darling of the press, who smiled and waved every time she left the building, who would often take some of her newest creations out to the waiting press gaggle for them to try. Robert was just trying to live his life, but that wasn’t good enough, never had been.

“I need you to come with me tonight. I think it would be a good idea for people to see you doing some good for a change. Diane is already attending a charity event.”

“Where is it?”

“The palace. Be ready for 7.” He turned to leave. “And Robert, I don’t want any silliness, not like last time.”

Honestly, you get slightly _merry_ one time at a Downing Street party and you never hear the end of it. It’s not like he declared war on anyone, he just, well he might’ve broken a vase. It was hideous anyway and deserved to be broken, but apparently it’d been a gift from some country or other that the country needed to trade with. Robert really didn’t think that trade deals depended on a frankly ugly piece of china but as had been pointed out to him many many times he knew nothing about politics and should keep his nose out.

It wasn’t that he was politically ignorant, he voted, he read the news, he researched anything that might be relevant to him or his job, but after years of hearing his parents fighting because his Dad was forever away from home or spending more time sorting out his constituents problems than those in his own family, as far as he was concerned the whole thing was a pantomime. The happy family that had stood on the steps outside, smiling and waving, was nothing but a charade. He and Andy barely spoke, which was fine by him, his Dad could barely stand the sight of him and Diane and Victoria just wanted them all to get along and that meant Robert should shut up and get on with it.

“Robert?” He stops unpacking and turns to see his little sister leaning on the doorframe, hair done up in her usual braid, already coming loose at the front. She’s holding a plate in her hand, his favourite flavour of doughnut sitting proudly on top. He’s missed her. The downside to avoiding his Dad is that he doesn’t see her as much as he likes.

“Hiya trouble.” He pulls her into a hug. “That for me?”

“Thought you might need it. Dad said you were going with him tonight?” She hands him the plate before bouncing on the bed. Sometimes it’s hard to believe she’s a fully fledged adult.

“Not willingly.” He mumbles around his food. “This ’s good.”

“It’s boring is what it is. Why won’t you try some of my other flavours?”

“Because you do not mess with jam doughnuts Vic. Some things have to remain sacred in this world.” He smiles a little at her huff and licks the sugar from his fingers before joining her on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go tonight?”

“I went last time. Besides, it’ll give you the chance to stare at you know who all night.” He groans, regretting once more the late night conversation a few years ago when he was still living at home.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Debatable. Anyway I don’t want to stare at anyone, least of all him.”

“So the words _His Royal Hotness_ didn’t pass your lips?”

“Vodka had passed my lips.”

“So you don’t fancy the second in line to the throne then?” He shakes his head at her, irritated but loving her all the same. She was the only one of them who knew he was bi, well no, he supposed his Dad did even if they’d never actually managed a conversation. He idly wonders what it’d be like to tell everyone what had happened, the see the scales fall from the eyes of the nation about their perfect leader. He’d never do it, would never hurt Vic like that, but sometimes the look on his Dad’s face if he did would comfort him somehow.

“No!” He could admit, if pushed that Aaron was good looking, he wasn’t blind, but so were lots of people.

“Hm.”

“The man never smiles Vic. Last year, at his cousin’s wedding, did you even see him without a scowl?”

“You took notice of him then?” He half heartedly smacks her arm, making her laugh. “I’m glad you’re here, Rob, I missed you.”

“I’ve been here.” It’s lame, because he hasn’t, not really.

“I mean more than a couple of texts and a phone call once a month. How long are you going to be here?”

“Until I’m not grounded anymore.”

“Idiot. I’m going, Adam’s picking me up at 4.” She’s gone before he can even ask who Adam is. It just proves how distant he’s been from her and he feels guilty all over again.

*******

“I meant what I said Robert, best behaviour tonight. I think you’ve made enough headlines with your dalliances for a while, don’t you?” It’s on the tip of his tongue to drag up Rachel, something else that no one knows but family, but he stops himself. It’s not worth the hassle. Hopefully if he gets through tonight he won’t be asked again for a long while.

“Just once it’d be nice if you pretended to have even an ounce of faith in me. You do know Chrissie is right now shacked up with someone else, don’t you? And was before I went anywhere near Rebecca.”

“No one cares about that. Just behave yourself. Is that too much to ask? This isn’t just some party, it’s the Queen and her family. Show some respect.”

Privately he thought that Queen Faith looked rather fun and would be quite at home gossiping over a few glasses of red rather than endlessly shaking hands but he keeps it to himself as they pull up the gates of the palace. He can’t help looking up at the building a little in awe. He’s wouldn’t really class himself as a monarchist, but he doesn’t wish any of them any ill, and he watches all the pomp and ceremony on TV like everyone else. He just doesn’t particularly want to spend the night minding his P’s and Q’s because he’s really not all that good at it.

He takes a deep breath as the car stops and the door is opened. As he watches his Dad step out he can’t help but think his world has really taken a turn in the last 24 hours.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a damn cliche and he hates them, but it’s like something out of a fairytale and he’s only in the entrance hall. Are they called entrance halls in palaces? He really thinks the least his Dad could’ve done if he insisted on him being here was give him a cheat sheet about these things. He’s not even here to ask. He’s already working the room, shaking hands and making contacts. Robert doesn’t even know what this whole shebang is for, for goodness sakes. It’s not like he hasn’t been to an event like this before, but that’s always been a fundraising thing, or a couple of small gatherings once his Dad was elected and they were playing the happy family card. This though, this is a whole other level. One foot wrong and it could be treasonous.

“And this is my son Robert.” He swallows as his Dad approaches with an unfamiliar face but it’s absolutely the type of person he knows will be useful. His father doesn’t bother with anyone who isn’t. So he smiles, shakes hands, and hopes someone will offer him a drink and soon.

*******

It’s all over in a flash. One minute he’s chatting away about the impending black hole in the country’s finances having finally found someone having an interesting conversation, and the next he’s flying towards the ground.

Ok, so maybe he made a comment about the amount of money being spent in the very room and maybe Prince Aaron had overheard and confronted him before roughly pushing past him. It wasn’t his fault that he’d grabbed the nearest thing to hand to stop himself falling. How was he to know that a simple grab of the arm would mean a punch in the face from an heir to the throne.

All he can see as he gets to his feet, bits of ridiculously expensive canapé all over his best suit is his Dad’s face, redder than he’s ever seen it. He doesn’t even look over at Prince Aaron but he can sense a flurry of activity around him, whereas he’s just stranded.

“I…I’m so sorry.” He daren’t look round, just edges his way out of the room hoping it’s in the direction of the way out, of safety. He knows his Dad is following and hell why does he feel like a kid again.

“I’ve _never_ been so embarrassed Robert. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“It’s not like I assassinated the Queen with a blini, Dad. It was a tray of salmon things. I was the one being punched you know! I’m fine by the way.” He touched his jaw gingerly, hissing as pain blossomed.

“And what did you say to him to make him punch you?” He opens his mouth to answer. “Oh just be quiet Robert. When we get home I don’t want to see you until tomorrow morning. In my office, with Nicola and we’ll see just how much of a mess you’ve made.”

He escapes before the car has even pulled up at the entrance at the back of Downing Street, pushing past the protection officer and storming upstairs to his room only to let out a groan when he sees his sister has made herself nicely at home in his armchair. He does smile when he spies the bar of his favourite chocolate on the table and a beer waiting to be opened.

“So you had a fun night.” She hugs him and just for a second he could imagine it was his Mum, ready to make his day all better. “Is Dad angry?”

“You mean you didn’t hear the explosion all the way over here?” He shakes his head as she sheds his jacket and throws his tie on the bed. “Wasn’t even my fault.”

“Really? That’s not what it says on Twitter."

“I…I just…look it is obscene that they’re spending that much money on food and diamonds and who knows what else. I only said what a good chunk of the country thinks.”

“Yeah but they don’t say it to the second in line to the throne.”

“I didn’t know he was there! Can I at least get a little sympathy for the fact that he might’ve broken my jaw?”

“Rob, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation if he’d broken your jaw. You’re so dramatic sometimes. I’ll get you some frozen peas.”

“Bring the ice cream too.” He calls after her. “The good stuff.”

“You’re going to give yourself diabetes or something.”

“Right now I could care less.” He wanted to wallow, he thinks he deserves that much. _He_ wasn’t the one who threw a punch and ruined the evening. All he’d done was grab his arm, and that was what he got for his trouble. The beloved Prince clearly had anger management issues and he wasn’t taking the blame for that.

*******

All in all he’d enjoyed the rest of the evening. He and Vic had settled into the oversized armchair, somehow managing to fit even if he was half perched on the arm, with the ice cream and more than a couple of beers, watching trashy movies until he literally couldn’t keep his eyes open, all thoughts of what lay ahead forgotten.

He’s suffering now, his jaw aches, his head is banging and his eyes are full of grit thanks to the early morning call to wake him up. He likes Nicola, his father’s head of communications. She’s fun and she takes as well as she gives, but he’s never been on the wrong side of her until now. Any inkling of friendship they may have formed on those few times he’d campaigned for his father was likely gone. It was even odds that she’d have him hung drawn and quartered in the rose garden if she thought she could get away with it.

“You just can’t go more than 24 hours without giving me a headache can you? Do you think I’m in need of work or something? As if I don’t have enough to do with the Cabinet!” She sweeps into the sitting room, arms full of the day’s papers, slamming them onto the table making him groan. “Serves you right. What on earth did you think you were doing?”

“Would you even believe anything I said? Have you got any paracetamol in that bag of yours?”

“No. You can sit there and suffer just like I am at having to sort out your mess. You’re an idiot.”

“It’s been said.”

“I’ve spoken with your father, _and_ the palace who are just as keen as us to do some kind of damage control.” He winces as she paces around the room. He should’ve just stayed in bed, that would’ve been a very good idea.

“I would’ve thought it’d be easy for them. Blame it all on me, it’s not like I’m already in the country’s bad books.”

“Oh do stop feeling sorry for yourself Robert. It’s not an attractive look on you.”

“Aw I didn’t know you cared.” He sits forward, trying to catch sight of the notes she’s making. “So go on, or are we waiting for the old man.”

“He left you in my capable hands. More important things to do apparently.” She actually looks sympathetic so he can only imagine what his Dad had actually said.

“Right. What do I have to do?”

“You’re going to be Prince Aaron’s new best friend. Well, when I say new, I mean we’re going to tell the press that you’ve been friends for a while and that what they saw last night was an accident after a friendly squabble over the football.”

“You’re joking, right? Why have I got to play nice with him. He punched me!”

“ _After_ you have insulted his family. I always thought you were bright but I’m reevaluating my opinion.”

“I only said what half the country thinks.”

“That’s as maybe, but they don’t do it in the sovereign’s house. I don’t care what you think of them, no one does, they only care what it looks like. Your father can’t be seen to think like that because the majority of the country don’t.”

“I’m _not_ my father!”

“It’s all the same thing in politics.” Finally she sits down and pushes the stack of newspapers to him. He swallows heavily as he looks at the top one, pictures of the punch, of him sprawled on the floor clutching his jaw. “So we’re going to do this, and you’re going to play nice with him or so help me God Robert I’ll stick you on a plane to the most inhospitable part of this planet with a one way ticket.”

He nods, anything for some peace and an easy life, and she relaxes. It looks like he has a new best friend then.


End file.
